


Stupid

by icantbestill29



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, propunk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icantbestill29/pseuds/icantbestill29
Summary: A companion to Love on the Brain. Sarah's POV. Title taken from the Sarah McLachlan song.





	Stupid

how stupid could I be  
a simpleton could see  
that you're no good for me  
but you're the only one I see

She had done some bloody stupid things in her life. Dropping out of school, making Shiobhan angry, leaving, not telling Cal he had a daughter (or telling Kira who her father was, for that matter), dragging Fe into the whole sorted clone mess... Her behavior had long ago ceased to shock her. Sarah thought about Sarah first and everyone knew it. But she was trying to make amends, to not be so bloody selfish...she had been trying, anyway, before she fell into a pile of shite. And what was worse is that she jumped right into it, head first, with both eyes open. Sarah knew exactly what it was she was getting into and who she was getting into it with. The funny thing about the whole situation (if one could find any humor in it), was that she was so consumed with trying for once in her worthless life not to be a selfish git that she made bad decision after bad decision, utterly self-absorbed till the very end...pure irony.

At first, she'd blamed Rachel. Which was fairly easy to do. Being a cold hearted, self-serving bitch, who had tried to kill her and who'd kidnapped her daughter didn't exactly endear her to anyone and Rachel knew it. Going into negotiations with her enemy wasn't ideal but she knew she had to step up, for Kira, for Helena and Cosima and Alison and M.K. For Beth. And if there was one thing she was good at, if there was one thing she knew how to wield to her advantage, it was sex. Rachel had been starving for it and Sarah could immediately recognize desire when she had been on top of her, gun pressed to her temple. She'd felt the heat radiating off of Rachel's body, how her breath hitched, not with fear but with arousal, how her hips automatically jerked into her clone's. Sarah had noted the unraveling, tucking the information away for safe keeping so that she could pull it out when it was most useful to her.

As it turned out, negotiating with Rachel wasn't as unpleasant as she'd thought it would be. It was, of course, the instant power struggle she'd pegged it as...who could bruise who faster, who could make the other come undone first, who held the upper hand. At first, they were in silent agreement that Rachel was in control, as much as the admittance made the punk ill. Sarah was no stranger to using her body to get what she wanted but in this case, it was her clone who was pulling the strings and they both knew it. When the power in the situation turned, it was a shock, not only to Rachel (who prided herself, Sarah knew, in being absurdly unshaken at all times, wearing her coldness like a suit of armor), but to Sarah as well. The thought walloped her over the head as she was three fingers deep inside the other woman, Rachel's head thrown back, mouth open, her normally tight set jaw line slack in complete and total abandonment as Sarah thrust deeper and deeper, relentless. Just to test her theory, she had paused, sensing that Rachel was close, grabbing her by the chin to look at her.

"What do you think you're doing?" It came out more like a pant and Sarah had smirked. The tables had turned and Rachel was at her mercy, her eyes both wanton and furious. 

"I want you to work for it, Rachel," She'd hissed into her ear, taking the lobe in between her teeth, biting down.

Rachel made a sound akin to a growl and Sarah could see that her defenses were starting to crumble. "I will not--"

Sarah ghosted her thumb over Rachel's swollen clit, wet and slick, and when the other woman thrust up against her in an effort to gain full contact, Sarah knew she had her.

"Please," The word was barely there, as if the softer she said it, it might evaporate into the air.

"Please what?" Sarah dipped one finger back inside her enemy, arching it toward her sweet spot. She was so close to gaining the edge over her clone, so close to regaining some of the dignity she'd had to surrender when she had entered Rachel's office weeks ago. The change in dynamic almost made her dizzy and she braced herself on the desk.

"Please... Sarah."

Her name on Rachel's lips was almost like a curse, said in such a pained way that if it didn't send an instant rush of heat straight to her groin, Sarah would've laughed.

"There it is," The punk murmured lowly, plunging deep into her and taking Rachel over the edge with a guttural, feral moan.

She had played that card to her advantage, making the woman beg for release, making her say her name as she came, teasing her, slamming her into walls, taking her on the desk, against the floor to ceiling windows. Sarah may have acquiesced control of the situation at large but she knew just how to make Rachel Duncan come apart at the seams and it involved her head between the blond's legs. The best part was how much Rachel utterly detested coming unglued, how after they'd finished she'd tell Sarah to see herself out, her brows arching into her hairline, practically shaking with rage. It was as much of a rush as the sex itself.

Something eventually shifted, as things in Sarah's life tended to do. What the shift was or when it happened wasn't something she could distinguish but somehow, she kept coming back, even after there was relative peace, even after her family was safe. She was acutely aware that she physically craved Rachel; her lips, the familiar muscular curves, how she tasted, how she felt when she tightened around Sarah's fingers...she was in over her head but it hadn't stopped her from going to DYAD, from going to Rachel's penthouse, from wanting, wanting, wanting until shame and need had blended together into something she couldn't define.

The greatest shift, the most unexpected one, was the fact the blind hatred had faded. Maybe some lingering blurred resentment burned at the edges but she no longer hated Rachel so much that it consumed her. And not hating her clone anymore meant...something else entirely. It meant that she touched her with a gentle purpose, it meant she didn't rush, and it meant she didn't make Rachel beg any longer (her name still made its way to her lips when she came, a fact Sarah took innate satisfaction in) as she pushed her over the edge as many times as possible until the blonde was spent.

They didn't say much, even at the penthouse, Sarah leaving as soon as they finished, silently gathering up her clothes and dressing with little fanfare. She knew it was the way Rachel preferred it, to cover up any real softness that may spilled over the surface so she obliged without comment. There was no languid cuddling, no small talk, no shared glasses of the wine that tasted like complete shite Rachel preferred to drink. No, it was a few hours of pleasure and then Sarah slunk out, giving a perfunctory nod to Troy who lingered outside before taking her home in Rachel's car.

It was self-preservation at its finest. And she could recognize it because that was her usual M.O. Don't stay, don't get attached, keep moving. Rachel didn't build relationships, she had deemed it far too dangerous and Sarah got that. She lived it. But Rachel had sent all her own preservation straight to hell. The last person she'd expected. The last person she'd wanted...but it was Rachel she thought about and Rachel she had to be near and Rachel who had seeped into her skin like a poison. 

Instinctively, she knew the other woman's resistance was weakening. She allowed Sarah to kiss her much more softly then when they'd begun and she'd rake her hands through her unruly mane, minus the tugging, her fingers tangling up it. And she had begun to concentrate on Sarah's pleasure, not satisfied until her clone cried out, grasping the sheets tightly in her clenched fists. Rachel was no idiot. She knew exactly what was going on, even though when Sarah called her on it she played dumb.

The night she had refused to leave, refused to pretend her feelings weren't there, refused to say it was only sex, she took a chance. Part of her had expected Rachel to tell her to go to hell or to laugh in her face...it was Rachel after all. Her unpredictability was as terrifying as it was a turn on and Sarah honestly had no clue if her little gamble was going to pay off. 

"Sarah," The voice startled her and she jumped a foot, nearly smashing her nose into the pane of the window she'd been standing at, staring blankly out into the inky early morning sky. 

"Sorry," Rachel came up behind her, planting an apologetic kiss on her bare shoulder. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you having trouble sleeping again?"

"Yeah," She breathed, sinking into the other woman's touch. She was clad in a silk robe that was the color of charcoal and as she leaned her body in toward Sarah's she could smell the light scent of her perfume.

"So am I," Rachel spun her around by her hips, eyes flashing. "Come back to bed."

The command held just a hint of her old brusqueness and Sarah smiled at the familiarity of it. A leopard rarely changed their spots but Rachel was trying to be less abrasive, trying to show Sarah she cared and that was more than enough for now.

"I'm leavin' soon, remember? I hafta be back to take Kira to school. S gives me enough grief for stayin' over here so much." She paused, "Want me to make a cuppa?" 

"Let me."

They went into the kitchen and Sarah perched at the breakfast bar, watching as Rachel busied herself with the expensive tea kettle. After about ten minutes, she placed a cup and saucer down in front of her, setting a lemon wedge on the side and did the same with her own.

"Thanks," She touched her wrist as Rachel sat on the stool next to her, her clone's lips upturning into a half smile. They sipped their tea in silence, Sarah's other hand absentmindedly fiddling with the sleeve of Rachel's robe. 

"Look at how bloody domestic we are, yeah?" Sarah tutted, squeezing some more lemon into the amber liquid. "You makin' me a cuppa..."

Rachel laughed lightly, placing her own hand on her clone's to still her. "It's only tea, Sarah. It was hardly an imposition. I often fix you something while you're here, you know."

"If you call fixin' me sumthin' orderin' out from that fancy French place you like."

"Yes, well..." She trailed off. "I rather like having you here."

It was a quiet admittance but an admittance just the same and Sarah was tempted to ask her to repeat it, just to be an arse, then thought better of it. Instead, she grabbed Rachel's hand in her own, threading their fingers together.

"Good. Cuz' I like bein' here." Sarah shook her head. "Never thought I'd bloody be sayin' that...not in a million years."

It was as close as they were going to get to talking about feelings or the way things had clearly changed over the course of only a few months but like many things with Rachel, Sarah had accepted that it was enough.

She held Rachel's eyes for a long moment before dropping her hand and giving the other woman's shoulder a light squeeze. Rachel, she had come to realize, for all her polish and eloquence, was no better with words than she. Of all the versions of the clone she knew, Sarah thought she liked the less confident, unsure version best. The one who wasn't always on the ready with a quick response.

Without any traces of carefully applied make-up, she looked younger and less guarded and she reached out to stroke Sarah's jawline with her fingertips.

"Back to bed," She commanded again, more firmly this time. "I'll have Troy give us a wake up call. You won't miss taking Kira to school. You have my word."

Months ago, Rachel's word wouldn't have meant shite but Sarah nodded, leaning into the other woman's touch. "C'mon, then." Pushing her tea aside, she rose, Rachel following suit, poised to clear away their cups.

"Leave em'." If she knew Rachel by now, it was an exercise in restraint for her to walk away without everything being in its place. 

Remarkably, she remained silent as they walked into the bedroom, readying to climb back in between the silk sheets, Rachel slipping out of her robe, allowing it to fall unceremoniously to the floor.

Sarah instantly pulled her in and started to trace light patterns over her shoulder blades, the column of her spine, the small of her back. 

They did not speak to the fact they were in Rachel's bed (with a naked Rachel, no less) without having sex. It felt familiar and comfortable and if Sarah said anything, she knew the spell would be broken.

"Sarah," Her voice was thick from being at the fuzzy edges of sleep. "You're coming back, aren't you? Later?"

Sarah knew what she was really saying even if Rachel didn't (or couldn't) yet. 

"Yeah," She smiled, pulling her closer. "Yeah...I'm comin' back."


End file.
